This n That

I got an email from an old friend today.  It was such a treat to hear from her, and catch up on her young family.  It made me miss good friends, the kind I see every day or so, and know the little details of their lives...  (and they know mine.)  Colleagues, friends, fellow church goers...  people I have spent time with solving problems, creating and implementing lessons, parties, activities, workshops, finding ways to meet the challenges of work, family, church and community.  I miss my pre-cancer life, friends, responsibilities and recreation.  So, instead I.....

....  help Drew with his business,and I am finding myself quickly becoming his office manager.  I kind of like the sound of that.  Pay?  eh...  but it is fun....it has  kept me sane in a cancer treatment driven life.  It provides a routine for my world that is not associated with Dr appointments, and forces my brain to deal with numbers, money, dates, and taxes.... all of which are far enough out of my comfort zone to provide a needed challenge.  Weirdly enough doing this for him provides peace I don't find anywhere else.  So, until he is ready to actually hire someone, I will gladly assist... because I can... because I enjoy it....  because it helps me feel useful... every. single. day.

.... am planning to do a tri-sprint  in Oct.  I am just getting on the bike this last week or so.  The weather and terrain is perfect here.  (for me)  I have been swimming all winter and I am much stronger than I was.  When I started in Dec I could not swim two laps freestyle.  Now I am up to 16... without stopping.  that is a huge improvement.  

I am still a terrible runner, but I will get to that.  

Overall, i think I can do this... and maybe even do it well.  My goal is 90 minutes, which is nothing to brag about in any setting, but I will be ecstatic if I can make it. I did sign up for it already, which means money is involved.  Therefore, I am committed.  :)

....  miss teaching.  It has been almost three years since I quit.  I drive past a community center regularly and a place called the Communiversity, which is several universities that have pooled resources to create a community university to help people get ready for higher education at a more reasonable price and setting.  I want to teach there.  However, I cannot even take the first steps until we are finished going back and forth to PA to sell the house.  AND, it looks like that will happen sooner than later.  We have two guys from Philadelphia who are interested.  We meet in two weeks to hammer out some details and see where we go from here.  Then I will seriously look into teaching again.  

AND see, this is me.  writing.  again. Go me. 

A moment...

I'm finding that I miss the branch more than I thought I would. LDS east and LDS west are not the same creature, and this will take some adjustment. But, I'm grateful to be here. (Visiting teaching is SSOOOOO easy to schedule.... And sometimes so awkward when I get there). Still, I know this is The Place for the moment and I'm savoring every minute in case it is a short moment.  We made a decision and here we are.

Jeff, although he misses his mountain terribly, is thriving and looks younger every day. Our back yard is slowing changing from a square of desert dirt to a lovely desert courtyard of color and texture. It has Jeff's hand all over it, and that makes me happy too.

We have blossoms on our two new little (and I emphasize little) citrus trees, and we are learning all about the hazards of irrigating, including lines that pop their ends and send water everywhere, including the front of the neighbors house. 

Fasting regularly

I learned about fasting in a religious and spiritual context.  

As the child of parents who were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I learned about fasting early. I learned that at the age of 8 or so, my siblings and I could miss breakfast on the first Sunday of the month while concentrating on prayer and spiritual things. (At the time it was more about feeling hungry and less about prayer and spiritual things.)  We saw that our parents skipped two meals that day and then donated money to the Fast Offering Fund of the church to be used to care for the poor.  

As I grew, I, too, learned to skip two meals on Fast Sunday and to pray for my own needs and the needs of those I cared about.  As an adult I, too, donate to the Fast Offering Fund in order to help care for those who have less than I do.  I try to be generous when donating to this fund, recognizing that my generosity will better help those who need help, and that it will help me to make a sacrifice that is enough to make me think. A sacrifice that causes me to pause when I contribute helps me feel my contribution, just as missing two meals and feeling hungry helps me feel for a moment what those who are poor feel on a regular basis.

I grew up in a family of small means.  As a child I did not feel poor, but I knew our resources were limited, and that my Mom worked hard to make little stretch into sufficient and, at times, plenty.  I knew that Christmas and birthdays came from Goodwill and flea markets. (Back then it was not chic to shop in such places.)   My siblings and I helped Mom glean the orchards and berry patches after the farmers had finished their harvest.  I learned to make bread and can fruit and vegetables at my mother's elbow.  All the time I thought it was just what moms taught their children.  As an adult I realize that my mother was providing during times of limited means.  In spite of limited means, my parents taught my siblings and I to fast and to contribute to the Fast Offering Fund as our means and faith permit.  

Fasting will never be a means to improve my physical self, or to cleanse in preparation of improving my eating habits.  Fasting will always be a means of righting myself before the Lord, an opportunity to cleanse my spirit in preparation of asking for the blessings of God to be poured out on me and those I love.  Fasting is opportunity to lend my faith to those whose need is greater than mine at that moment, and who I can help as they search, struggle, and work out elements of their life that need support, direction, and personal revelation.  And, when combined with contributing to the Fast Offering Fund, it provides for me a marvelous experience on a regular basis.

A post script to the transplant

Can Ye Feel So Now?

 Alma 5... In the Book of Mormon

 The Grand PPI (personal priesthood interview) or inventory.  Alma, one of many great priesthood leaders, provides the questions for us to inventory our spiritual standing before God.  This is not a chapter to be read quickly or lightly.  It requires a degree of introspection and self evaluation.

I counted 38 questions in this chapter.

In verse 26, Ama asks

 And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren, ... if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?

There have been times in my life that I have answered a resounding NOOOOO to this question. Sometimes that answer has included a foot stomp and shake of the fist.

This assignment to speak has given me a moment, many moments in the last couple of weeks to ask   Why?  

I didn't have to look very far to have plenty to examine.  

Satan is insidious. He watches carefully for those moments when we are weak, sad, angry, frustrated, confused, hurt, unsure, insecure, inadequate, worried, frightened. When we encounter hardship,  it can be difficult to sing the song of redeeming love, but it is when we need it most.  

This has been quite a year for my family.  It been long and difficult. On Oct 16 last year my husband found a lump in his neck that turned out to be a very aggressive lymphoma.  This was not an entirely new experience for us, he had dealt with this very same cancer 8 years ago.   This time it came from WAY left field because we had been told that if it didn't come back in two years or so, that it wouldn't.  It is too aggressive to hang around waiting to pounce.  

The first time we dealt with this I never flinched, never worried about the outcome.   Jeff had receive several blessings that promised him a long life.  I knew we just had to get through it.  There were some who told me I was in denial, that I needed to deal with his very probable death. I knew that would not happen.  It didn't.

However, From the very beginning last October, there were no promises of a long life, of sure recovery.  This time his blessings spoke of eternal families.  Missions to be filled on this and the other side of the veil.  I was more than a little nervous.  I wasn't ready for this.  We were too young.  We had been called on a mission to serve in the Philippines.  It was one that we would do together and do well.  We were excited.  We were learning Tagalog.  

But our lives changed in a moment.  Now,  I had responsibilities and my husband's life depended on me meeting those responsibilities and not faltering.  Worst of all some of those were responsibilities were ones I knew I was not going to like. (I was not his primary care giver when he got his first bone marrow transplant 8 years ago.  Our daughter was and she did a great job... I  only relieved her on weekends),  and then I learned this was going to be a more difficult process this time.  The responsibilities involved ports, medicines, needles, hospitals, Drs waiting rooms, watching every thing he ate, watching for scary signs of rejection, illness, infection...  Even after 10 months, I get queasy thinking about it.  (I can hear my youngest daughter saying, "really, Mom."  as she rolls her eyes.  

I must admit those responsibilities were not met cheerfully...  I was grumpy.  

I was worried

I was unsure,

I felt inadequate

I was sad

I was scared

I was angry..... 

We were giving up a Mission...  for cancer....  It was the worst.

Also, this time around  because We were not promised he would live, we had to find that place that Elder Bednar spoke of a couple of years ago...  "The faith to not be healed."  The faith to allow the Lord to do with us what he would.  And  I became aware that this experience was not just our, it was our children's.  They were just as scared,  wanting to see the eternal nature of families, but nearly being swallowed by this earthly experience.  

I like knowing where I am headed.  I love a good plan.  I love implementing a plan and seeing it all come together.  Here I had no plans beyond Hopkins, needles and doctors.  I was grumpy, and grumpy interferes.

How could I  get back to the place where I could again "sing the song of redeeming love.?"  even hear that song?

There were things that interfered with my ability to hear the Lord ,  but there were things that kept me close .  Things that fed my soul and kept me close to that song of redeeming love, even when I could not really hear it or sing it myself.  Things that I see more clearly now.

It started with 40 days and 40 nights of the Book of Mormon with a friend that turned into a year of making our way through the Book of Mormon, then the New Testament, Doctrine and Covenants, The Pearl of Great Price, and finally the marathon that is the Old Testament.

I had never in my life done that before.  long distance, we made our way through... Emails, texts....  Ideas, thoughts, quotes that made me think, that touched me....even some that made me laugh.  But the commitment we had made to each other to keep at it,  kept me close to the scriptures, and to her, a strong woman of God who loves the gospel and who loves me.  She and the scriptures fed my soul.

A faithful visiting teacher and home teacher.  When we were in Baltimore for months, we got regular phone calls from both, and when we were home they were there.  It hasn't changed.   They find ways to work around our schedule, they keep in close contact even when we are away.  We didn't NEED anyTHING...  We needed the consistent contact, the regular messages, the expressed love and concern.

I realized I was surrounded with good people who love the Lord and choose to stay close to Him.  I have learned that in addition to our VT and HT, our branch president and fellow members have agonized their way through this experience along with us.  Every set back, every bit of good news, they shared with us. 

In addition to our branch, our community has fed my soul.  We live in Sugar Valley, quite possibly the most lovely place on earth.  It is filled with faithful men and women of God who have watched over us without being overbearing, loved us without reservation, prayed for us in their churches and families, checked on us regularly, respected our privacy when we just couldn't talk to another person. 

Sugar Valley Quilters feed my soul,  women who seek to serve the less fortunate in our community by making quilts for them.  They  consistently invite me to show up and bring my machine.  I've missed many sewing dates with them this year, but when I am there, they feed my soul with their love for their fellow man.  I am one of them no matter how long I have been away.  I love being able to bend over my machine sewing working on whatever simple or intricate pattern they tell me to sew, listening to their banter, laughter, babies crawling around on the floor, grandmothers giving advice and instruction.  The hours fly by and I am so glad to be with them.  They, then, take those quilts and give them to those whose need is so great it seems to be unbearable.  And my soul is fed.  

My calling and The women I serve with feed my soul.  What a marvel that we are allowed to serve the Lord in callings in this church.  We don't seek them, but we take them on when called to do so.   I work with women who continue to amaze me, who keep track of me, who implement the details of these grand ideas that pop out of our heads and into our presidency meetings.  I have had many experiences of working with such women in a variety of callings, and they have all fed my soul.  Women of God are the most amazing creatures on earth...

Our Women's conference this last month fed my soul.  The teachers, speakers, fellowship, love.  All that day, the hymn "As Sisters in Zion" rattled around in my head.  And many souls were fed.

Priesthood blessings from men who hold the priesthood and who love us enough to cry with us, pray with us, and then place their hands on our heads and tell us what the Lord wants us to know so that we can proceed through hardship knowing what the Lord wants us to know and do...  fed my soul this year, and continues to do so.  

The temple has fed my soul....

Sister Neil Marriott of the General YW presidency states...

The scriptures teach, “That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light.”4 We must continue in God, as the scripture says. We must go to the source of light--to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and the scriptures. We can also go to the temple, knowing that all things within its walls point to Christ and His great atoning sacrifice.

A Show Low AZ,stake president's wife, speaking at a ward Young Women in Excellence last week, said, "Go to the temple.  In the temple we can be who we really are, we can see ourselves as we really are and how Heavenly Father sees us and knows us.  

Finally, Our children feed my soul.  I am learning through them about eternal families.  They are more than families who exist together forever.  They are families who in spite of all the dysfunctions of this world continue to function.

Our children have made sacrifices of time, energy, money.  Mothers and fathers In law  were willing to go and stay with the grand babies and their sons/daughters so that our son and daughters could spend precious time with their Dad while he struggled to recover in the early days after the transplant, and who made me laugh at my grumpy self as we power walked the streets of Baltimore together. Husbands and wives of our children rearranged their lives (including birthing a baby on schedule) so that our children could be our support,   all three willing to offer their life's blood to heal their father.  And the one who finally was chosen to do so, flying in and out of Baltimore from AZ for tests and more tests, and finally flying home after donating his bone marrow in much more pain than he had any idea would be involved.  They have shown me that our family is patterned after Heavenly Father's Family, is part of His family.

These elements of my life fed my soul this year so that I could grumpily make my way through until I could drop the grumpy long enough to again hear and sing that song of redeeming love on my own. We are both healing. Jeff, physically, and me spiritually.  Because of the atonement, and access to opportunities to feed our souls, we can heal  repeatedly throughout our lives as we need to.

Often the burdens we carry are heavy.  Often we hang onto them all by ourselves much longer than we need to.  There are times that we cry out out,  I cannot do this, I cannot hear the song,  let alone sing this song of redeeming love!  

But we can.  The gospel is designed to be our  support, our teacher.  We go through hardships, and we learn, we grow, we are stretched beyond our small capacity in order to, one day, be worthy and able to live a celestial life with our families and our God.  And we never go through them alone.  Even when we think we are alone, we aren't.  Our mortal experience was not planned for us to be alone.  I  testify that the atonement is real, that the Savior made it possible for us to learn and even relearn when necessary, to repent, to grow so that we can and become better and more than we think we can.  

I love Isaiah.  In chapter 58 vs 11  he explains, "And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought.... and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.”

The Savior is that water.